


i need some fine wine (and you need to be nicer)

by adreamaloud, daneorange (adreamaloud)



Category: Skins (UK) RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-08
Updated: 2009-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-18 18:32:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/adreamaloud, https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/daneorange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title from the Cardigans. Here’s where I say a lot of liberty has been taken with everything, and by that I mean A LOT.</p></blockquote>





	i need some fine wine (and you need to be nicer)

_“Well, it’s been a long, slow collision.”_ –the cardigans, i need some fine wine, and you, you need to be nicer.

It’s not that she doesn’t get it – the fact is, Kat does, her reputation for constant inebriation notwithstanding. She gets it; not like she’s drunk all the time, is she.

She gets it. Gets it that sometimes, it’s too much – all these clandestine *movements* altogether, and really, Kat’s all about demonstration before an audience – until now.

“People talk,” Lily’s saying, and Kat almost hears her append the standard “And I’ve got a boyfriend”-clause, but obviously, Lily agrees she doesn’t have to when it’s just the two of them talking.

 _Talk_. The last word rolls out of her tongue with all the acid dripping around its corners, and Kat attempts for a somewhat enthusiastic, “Quit over-thinking things; not like they’re true, are they?” she says. “’Sides, if he’s any good, he’d never even believe any of those, would he?” Kat covers up the hint of heartbreak toward the end with the sound of her lighter flicking open.

Sighing, Lily just says, “I’m not over-thinking,” watches Kat blow smoke to the side; Kat tosses Lily the pack when Lily motions for it. “I’m just saying. Kathryn.”

Kat looks up at the full mention, touches her hair lightly before pushing it aside. Lily bites her lip. Kat says, “Come on, Lily.” And then, “Who the fuck cares anyway?” Kat casually leans over nearer to crush her fag into the ashtray to Lily’s side, a careless hand on Lily’s knee.

Lily takes a moment; all this time of touching and being touched and Kat wonders how Lily could still find this the least bit surprising. There’s a sharp intake of breath that precedes the vigorous shaking of her head; Lily looks positively worried as she lights up a fag herself. “Well, to be honest, I’m starting to.”

Kat tries not to flinch and fails. When Lily exhales, Kat’s still so near that the smoke goes over her right shoulder, and Lily’s saying, “Oh god, I don’t know what to do with you,” settling her hand on top of Kat’s on her knee, tentatively.

*

It’s not like she saw this coming, Kat likes telling herself, but it’s not like it came without warning, either; even if the warning came via Meg, who at the time gets the most perceptive she’s ever been in, like – EVER.

That time, Meg says, “I hardly see you anymore,” by way of opening the conversation; it makes Kat think about how people are wrong to have always generalized that twins were together all the time, that they always knew how to jumpstart a conversation with each other effortlessly. “Always out with Lily, aren’t you?”

The truth is, Kat considers lying for a moment – but then, what for? In the absence of an interesting excuse, Kat just says, casually, “Anything the matter with that?”

“Is this a trick question?” asks Meg. “I’ve seen how you look at her when you’re _sober_. Christ, Kat, what’s with the fucking obvious – method or what?”

Kat rolls her eyes. “Fuck off Meg,” she just says, but inside, Kat knows that Meg, for all her moments of ignorant bliss, has really got it right this time. “Just when did you get so fucking perceptive anyway?”

Meg shrugs, walks off without saying anything else; Kat tries not to think about the possibly apocalyptic meanings of this brief exchange.

It’s not like she saw this coming, Kat tells herself that night and several nights after, but then again, it’s not like she could have stopped it from going down like this, anyhow, if she had.

(Often, Kat blames it on Lily’s eyes, but only because Kat finds herself less angry after.)

*

The thing is, as most things go, theirs starts off innocently: a simple nudge there, an arm wrapped loosely around the waist here, the occasional hand on the small of her back, the playful pecks on cheeks punctuated by drunken snickering. Kat remembers how Lily had been such a sport through all of it, at the time, and when she catches herself with all these words – ‘remember’, ‘at the time’, ‘had been’ – she’s overtaken by a sort of longing.

Kat doesn’t know when it started happening, couldn’t pinpoint a precise moment; perhaps, it was when the music was too loud for her to notice a thing as minor as an erratic heartbeat, or something as similarly subtle as Lily coming to a sort of epiphany about Kat, about herself, and about all of this.

*

On the day Kat finds out, it is Kaya who mentions Lily’s boyfriend casually, over a couple of fags and beer, one random night-out that Lily’s not there; Kat would have skipped it altogether, had Kaya and Meg not fused together to bully her out of the house and drag her all the way here, and look at what this brought her altogether.

“I thought she would have told you by now,” Kaya says apologetically, off the look on Kat’s face, pale as ash after; Kat kicks herself silently for being so fucking transparent. “Are you going to be—”

“I’ll be fine,” cuts Kat, slipping out another fag to light. Shaking her head, she fumbles briefly with her lighter before, “I’m totally happy for her.” Meg, who’s sitting across Kat and beside Kaya, pushes her glass of vodka Kat’s way, and Kat smiles before downing it in one go.

When she’s done, she slams the glass back down to the table; it comes off harder and more forceful than she had originally intended that Kat has to laugh a little, though the way it comes out is all wrong. She takes a drag, takes her phone out of her bag and then pushes herself off her seat, begging to be excused. “I have a phone call to make,” she just says, before staggering out.

*

Lily answers with her name. “Kat,” she says, her voice hushed. “What the fuck?”

“I know,” Kat just says, taking a long drag in between audibly. “Why didn’t you tell me yourself?”

“Know what? Tell you myself what?” Lily’s voice is thick with sleep and Kat feels it scratching against her ear, warm.

Kat shakes her head, “You know what I’m talking about,” she says. And then, “Lily, really, all that while?”

There’s a lot of fabric rustling and shuffling before Lily says, “Kat, I can’t fucking talk right now, okay?” The line goes dead, and Kat finishes her cigarette before throwing it out into the street.

*

She and Lily don’t talk for days. Sometimes, Meg comes along and asks her what the fuck is up, and Kat is torn every time between wanting to tell her as if they were the kind of sisters who talked about fucking emotions altogether, and wanting to keep it all to herself until it all blows over, for surely it was a temporary thing, Lily and the boy, right?

Besides, sometimes Kat really couldn’t figure out whether Meg really does know and is just asking out of politeness or if she really doesn’t have a clue at all, so Kat just says, “Just, fuck off, Meg,” but with all the sadness and softness of a plea than an order, really.

*

When it doesn’t end by the time the second week rolls around, Kat gives in and makes the call. “What, so you’ve got a boyfriend and you’d like to demonstrate how you could stand not talking to me for half a month, yeah?” The words just fall out heavily, one after the other, and when Lily hints at a sniffle, Kat tells herself not to cry, over and over in her head.

“Anything you’ve got to say for yourself, then?” Kat continues.

“No,” Lily says, after a long while, and as Kat listens to the tone thereafter, she just has to ask herself, “What the fuck?”

*

For the most part, Kat wonders if Kaya actually blames herself for the way this has turned a bit un-pretty; if this is actually intervention, for she and Meg to keep pestering her to go out for coffee.

This surprises Kat, mostly, as she really thinks Kaya and Meg are the most unusual of partners in crime, if not the most unexpected, yet here they are, tag-teaming her all this while, and when Meg goes off to place their orders, Kaya attempts finally to ask her about Lily.

“You haven’t been talking, have you,” Kaya asks, and it shows, how she is entirely uncomfortable with any activity that could be misinterpreted as prying.

Kat tries a smile. “Are you talking about Lily?”

“Is it bothering you that I am?” Kaya asks, looking away. Kat shifts her eyes in kind to the direction of the counter; Meg’s still in queue. Kat fumbles for a cigarette and lights it, sliding the pack Kaya’s way after. “I really shouldn’t have said anything,” Kaya says.

“That’s not what I meant at all,” says Kat, touching Kaya’s arm lightly before exhaling smoke to the side.

“It’s none of my business, really,” says Kaya, breathing in, reaching for the pack of fags herself. “But for what it’s worth, she must have wanted to tell you in her own time, yeah?”

“I wonder when that is, exactly,” Kat just asks back. Kaya takes a drag, exhales without saying anything.

In a bit, Meg returns with a tray of cups. “Anything interesting I missed, then?”

Looking up at her, Kaya just says, “Nothing much, really,” When Kaya smiles her way, only the slightest bit conspiratorial, Kat smiles back like she is thankful.

*

The second time she and Lily talk, it is Lily who makes the phone call; she has been making loads of them, actually, that Kat leaves mostly to her voicemail, since after all this time, Kat still hasn’t figured out what to say to her.

The day Kat decides to take one, Lily’s already saying, “I won’t blame you if you don’t take this call either,” perhaps mistaking Kat for her voicemail.

There’s an audible intake of breath on Lily’s end as Kat says, softly, “Hey.” And then, “So.”

Lily manages to say, “So,” back, in that painfully calculated way that reminds Kat of Naomi, actually. “You haven’t returned any of my messages.”

“I haven’t heard any of them,” says Kat, a fact whose truth actually surprises Kat herself.

Lily just says, “Oh.” And then, “So, this is a clean slate, then?”

“Pretty much,” Kat says, “Only not exactly.”

Kat almost does not believe what she’s hearing, but somehow Lily finds it in herself to start laughing slightly. “Have you, by any chance, been hanging out with Kaya?”

“Blame it on Meg,” Kat says, biting down on her lip to keep from laughing along; this is too easy, she’s telling herself, and surely by now, Lily could tell just how much Kat’s been missing her. And when Lily laughs louder when she adds, “They make a ridiculously effective team – personal opinion only, of course,” it only makes the feeling all the more large.

So when Lily comes around, finally, to the point, she does so simply with, “I’m really sorry, you know.”

Kat’s quiet for a while; she couldn’t figure out whether to hate herself for feeling these things that make her want to unfairly oversimplify the matter herself, just to get it over and done with, or for just being too tired and too willing to give the fight up altogether.

In the end, Kat ends up hating the way she’s suddenly too vulnerable, in a way that makes her say things like, “It doesn’t matter,” and, “It’s your life, do what you want with it”; they come off terribly pained and Kat almost doesn’t want to recognize herself at the end of it.

“I wanted to tell you myself, really,” Lily’s saying. On the other end of the line, Kat gets up from her bed and heads downstairs with a pack of cigarettes. “His dad worked on the set, you know?”

The new piece of information makes Kat feel thankful she hasn’t run out of fags. “Christ, Lils,” she just says, slipping out a stick as the door closes behind her. “Really, Lily, what the fucking hell.”

“I said I’m sorry,” Lily repeats, and Kat flicks her lighter on. And then, “Fucking hell, Kat what did you expect? That I would drop him the moment someone better comes along, or something?”

Kat says nothing to that, drawing from her fag and exhaling audibly, repeatedly; she turns the last part of that over and over in her head until it feels all too much like a punch in the gut, that she nearly doubles over, leaning against the railing of their porch and dropping her cigarette altogether.

“Kathryn,” Lily says again. “Are you still there?”

“Know what, fuck it,” Kat just says, lighting up anew. “Do what you want, but really, just fucking figure it out, will you?” she says, though really, she’s not at all too sure if she were really addressing Lily or herself.

After a while, Lily asks, “We’re still not okay, are we?”

“I don’t know,” Kat says, though really she’s shaking her head as she ends the call.

*

Kaya calls her the night before to ask if Meg has told her about the premiere. “Which one,” Kat asks, pinning the phone against her shoulder as she rummages through her bag for her pack of fags. Kaya says something about a horror movie, and then, “I think Lily’s coming.”

Kat breathes in. “Well, there’s something Meg must have missed,” she just says dryly, hand finally brushing against the pack amidst all the mess.

“You haven’t spoken?” asks Kaya. “With Lily, I meant.”

“Once. She apologized for not saying anything sooner, but really,” Kat exhales a little when she locates the lighter as well; how could things possibly be this hard to find in such a confined space? she couldn’t help but wonder. “The boy’s dad is on the fucking set, how could you not say anything sooner?”

Understandably, Kaya laughs and Kat knows better than to take offense; besides, Kaya laughs prettily and somehow it manages to lift the mood, a little. “I totally missed that bit about the dad,” she just says. “She does like to keep her cards close to her chest, doesn’t she?”

Kat sighs. “Why the fuck would she do that? Not like we’re not friends, aren’t we?” And then, pocketing her fags and lighter, she just says, “Anyway, fuck all of that; are you coming tomorrow?”

“Clearly, Meg has also omitted that part where I offered picking the both of you up?” Kaya just says, laughing a little again.

Kat’s on the way down, and she has to actually stop in the middle of the staircase, if only to roll her eyes and say, “God, Meg – can you call the girl up and actually *tell* her all about this?” she just says. Kaya laughs and assures her that she would before hanging up.

Somewhere, Meg’s phone goes off and Kat shakes her head as she lights up.

*

Of course, the first thing that gets to her is Lily’s hair, which has considerably gotten longer ridiculously fast, somewhat; Kat sees it the moment she alights from Kaya’s car, and after that the rest of Lily – blue eyes and long legs and ridiculously short dress and everything else – comes rushing to her as well, it makes her wobble on her heels, sort of.

Kat walks right after Meg, who forgets altogether how Kat and Lily had not been on speaking terms for a while, as she comes over and greets Lily with enthusiasm. Kat catches Kaya’s eye and shrugs in response – it’s Meg, for fuck’s sake, and somewhat expected.

Lily waves a little to the rest of them, says a tentative hi, and Kat returns it, equally awkward. “Nice hair,” Kat ventures, and as she catches her hand in mid-air, she draws it back to herself, slowly, consciously.

Kat catches the tail-end of Lily’s frown, which she had attempted to temper immediately into a smile. “Thanks,” Lily says, self-conscious, fixing her hat and tucking her hair, trying to negotiate with photographers and the wind at the same time. “Nice, dress,” she says back, laughing a little. “What, we don’t talk for days, yet we still manage to come in fucking matching clothes?”

It’s impossible to not smile at that, Kat thinks; frankly, it’s impossible to not smile at Lily altogether, and it’s not only because she’s being unbearably pretty. “It’s not my fault we’re in the same fucking fashion phase, or something,” Kat just says, and really, it’s so easy to fall back into old habits and gestures, when Lily’s laughing into Kat’s ear like this.

And so they do – Kat’s hand strays and settles against the small of Lily’s back, and Kat waits for Lily to tense a little, but she doesn’t. Around them, the cameras are going off everywhere, and Kat tries to distract herself, because if she doesn’t, well – if she doesn’t, if she concentrates instead on the feeling of Lily’s arm wrapped around casually at her waist, or if all she continues thinking about is how Lily’s pressed so close against her and how she smells like vanilla and how she keeps on trying to keep her hair out of her face with only one hand because she’s not letting go of Kat right now, is she – well.

Well, Kat’s heart is on fire, as it is; there’s not quite any other word for it just then, and not quite anything that could be done to help it now.

*

When Kaya’s finally done signing everybody else’s DVDs, Kat falls in step with Lily and tries to take her hand; Lily refuses.

“Please,” Lily says, and she’s too close anyway that Kat has to try very hard not to act too surprised or fucked over or something rather true; says something like she’s okay with that like she really is, even when inside she feels horribly misled.

*

Throughout the movie, Lily doesn’t say anything, but the way she holds onto Kat’s hand all the while, tightening and clawing at Kat’s arm as necessary, says entire volumes of what needs to be said anyhow.

(Once, Lily burrows her face into the crook of Kat’s neck, so close that her lips actually graze the skin; Kat does her best not to shiver, but she’s betrayed by a sharp intake of breath, anyway.)

*

Three glasses of vodka later that night, Lily finally comes around to asking, “Do you think I should do it anyway?”

“Do what,” asks Kat absently, lazily taking a hit from her cigarette, her eyes fixed on Meg and Kaya working it up on the dance floor, though mostly, it looks like just Kaya trying to get Meg to cooperate.

“Break up with him, I meant.”

Kat turns her head slowly, wonders briefly if the alcohol’s already fucking with her head, afraid it’s reached the point that she’s actually hearing things. “Run that by me again,” she says, and Lily repeats everything, word for word. After a while, all Kat could come up with is, “I don’t really think I’m the right person to ask this question.”

“Because?”

“Because,” Kat says, pausing to take a sip from her vodka. “Because I would say yes, and that would make me feel like a horrible person afterwards.”

“You’re not the only one feeling like a monster here, Kat,” Lily just says, sitting closer, a hand on Kat’s knee briefly before pulling it to herself, her hand balled into a fist.

*

When they kiss that night, some four more glasses of vodka later, it’s against the inside of a bathroom stall door and Lily’s actually giggling while at it, her cheeks so prettily flushed that Kat hates how she will not probably remember this in the morning in the midst of the hangover; though she’s also mostly hoping Lily doesn’t either, just because.

Kat actually fumbles with the hem of Lily’s dress; it’s not that she hasn’t done this before – of all things Kat should be familiar with, it should be bathroom stalls of bars, though she is not proud of this in the very least – but the thing is precisely that she hasn’t done this with Lily before, and in her head, really, Kat has expected herself to be a little more confident and coordinated and a little less shaky and.

“Come fucking on, Kat,” Lily says, her giggling already gone and replaced by heavy breathing coming in short audible bursts; Kat leans in, steadies her face against Lily’s neck, says, “Oh,” hoarsely against Lily’s ear when her fingers find how she is so *warm* that Kat has to suck on the space of skin behind Lily’s earlobe to keep from making a bigger sound.

*

Kat wakes in the morning after with the expected hangover and the unexpected memory of the night before; clearly, it must have mattered enough that her brain wanted to keep it in an area still accessible a few hours later, and Kat’s first instinct is to flex her hand, of all things.

The little sun coming in through the window is too bright, and when she brings her hands to her eyes, Lily’s still fucking *there*, it makes her head pound harder.

When Meg comes in, she asks about how Kat’s feeling, and the first word she comes up with is, “Sore.”

“You and Lily, you got really fucked up, yeah?” says Meg casually.

“No kidding,” Kat just says, dryly, turning over to lie on her stomach.

Meg replies, “Really.” And then, “You should call her. I think.”

“What for?”

Meg clears her throat before, “Well, *I’d* want to be called after something like that happens, yeah?”

The insinuation pushes Kat up to her elbows. “What the fuck, Meg?”

“Come on Kat,” Meg sighs, running her hand through her hair, still damp from a bath. “It’s not like a need a degree or something to figure some things out, for fuck’s sake.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re on about here, really,” says Kat, burrowing into the pillow, as if in doing so the conversation would disappear entirely.

“I’m just saying,” Meg says, the bed shifting underneath her as she moves. “Get it sorted, ‘kay?” Kat feels something hard tossed onto the bed beside her; she figures Meg has thrown her mobile on the bed. “So she’s an awful cunt; what, you fuck her over in kind?”

Kat raises her head at that, unable to keep it in. “Fucking hell, where’s all this insightful shit coming from? It’s ten in the morning!” she says, and Meg simply shrugs. “And what, you with the Pope now, or something?”

Meg smiles, leans in to kiss Kat on the forehead. “I am the Pope, in case you haven’t noticed,” she just says, and then, “Just fucking get it sorted, yeah?”

*

She calls Lily after lunch and an extra thorough bath; almost drops the call when it takes a couple of rings too long before Lily picks up.

“Lily,” she begins, and the acid is still at the back of her throat all the while.

“Hey,” Lily says, and Kat almost hears the apology immediately. “It’s just...”

Kat counters that with a pre-emptive, “I know,” And then, “Let’s drop it, it’s not going anywhere.”

“Is that right,” Lily just says, and Kat sighs. “I mean. We just – we’re so good together, aren’t we?”

“Lils,” Kat says. “How do you want this, really?”

“Just the way it is,” Lily says, and Kat wonders just how little she remembers from the night before. “I mean, don’t you?”

Kat considers her reply, stringing her words together carefully, before coming out with, “We’re such horrible friends, have you ever thought about it that way? It’s like, it almost hurts to be around you.” On the other end of the line, Lily breathes in, and Kat says, before anything else Lily has to say, “And it’s not even a matter of liking you, you know? Because god knows I like you, a bit too much for your comfort even, yeah?”

After a while, Lily only answers with a hoarse voice, “Christ, Kat, when did this start getting too fucked up?”

Kat tries not to go back to the bathroom stall, to the darkness of the cinema and the feel of Lily’s nails digging into her skin; not even way back to the several nights they’ve spent playing games of touch and not-touch in the midst of all that alcohol and _people_. She wants to say something that would somehow put all of that together, but then she only finds herself sighing in summary instead.

*

When Lily asks to meet, Kat almost declines, but then again, in the interest of peace she accedes. When she spots Lily, she’s wearing that hat again and it makes Kat smile, this attempt at disguise, and Kat all but forgets why she did not want to be here in the first place. When Lily looks up, her hair gets in the way of her eyes, and Kat tries not to make it so obvious, this way her breath hitches when Lily reaches up to tuck it away.

Approaching Lily with her heart in her throat, Kat couldn’t help but wonder how it is she plans to do this, right now – certainly, while Lily being beautiful has always been taken into consideration, perhaps Kat may have underestimated it, the way it has this hold on her, and oh, how convenient is this, actually, that her heart should be beating this fast, right now, in a way that makes her eyesight spin.

Lily says, “Sit,” and Kat blinks, takes a moment to negotiate with her wobbly knees; when Lily scoots closer, Kat does her best to keep it together, though she knows she is more or less done for -- that’s what this is.

Lily takes a moment to swallow – there’s a lump in her throat, after all, and certainly Kat knows, she’s staring at the way the skin on Lily’s neck is moving, and there’s a pit forming in the bottom of Kat’s stomach that nearly blows her open when Lily says, “I have something to tell you.”

The wreckage of her frayed nerves notwithstanding, Kat manages a laugh, and Lily takes the cue to giggle nervously in kind, and for a good while, they are what they are – two girls lost in a fit of giggles and unable to stop, and it’s only when Lily reaches over to touch something in the vicinity of Kat’s left temple that Kat’s laugh starts to soften, until they’re quiet, until Lily’s just looking at her and Kat’s just looking right back, and she thinks she knows fairly well now, what it is that Lily wants to say.

Kat puts a hand on Lily’s knee and for once, in the midst of this crowded café Lily doesn’t seem to mind, and though Kat knows, this could not mean everything she might want it to, perhaps it’s as good a start as any. #  


**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Cardigans. Here’s where I say a lot of liberty has been taken with everything, and by that I mean A LOT.


End file.
